


Under The Bleachers

by HogwartsDuchess (NephthysMoon)



Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: F/M, Smut
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2006-10-27
Updated: 2006-10-27
Packaged: 2017-11-19 21:17:00
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,362
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/577752
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/NephthysMoon/pseuds/HogwartsDuchess
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Ginny has returned to Hogwarts for her 7th year and finds that some changes have been made to the staff. Oliver Wood is the new Quidditch professor (if such a thing exits – think Madam Hooch), and he has some tips on how to improve her game.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Under The Bleachers

Ginny called a halt to practice. The Gryffindor Quidditch team had done surprisingly well for a first practice, and she congratulated herself for putting a first year in the position of Keeper. Though he was young, he was extremely talented, and would be an asset to the team for years to come.   
  
‘Great job, guys!’ she encouraged as they landed on the pitch. ‘Next practice is Friday at seven, and we’ll work on that new defensive technique we were talking about this morning.’   
  
The rest of the team filed off the pitch, eager to rush up to the showers and clean up. Ginny stayed behind to secure the balls and make sure the crate that contained them was put away properly. She hummed a song she’d learned from Hermione and entered the changing room.   
  
Professor Wood was waiting for her. He’d offered to help advise her with the team, and she was eager to hear his opinion of her new find. Her heart began to race. She’d only been in second year when he’d graduated, and she remembered finding him very attractive, though she was far more interested in Harry at the time.   
  
 _Harry,_  she thought disgustedly. He’d shown her what he really thought when he’d abandoned her to save the world. He’d done it, of course, and then promptly disappeared to parts unknown. She shook it off and smiled at her professor.   
  
‘They fly well,’ he said by way of greeting. ‘As do you,’ he added, smiling at her. For a brief moment, she considered that his expression might not be suited to a teacher, but she brushed it off.   
  
‘Thank you, professor.’ She grinned. Ginny was gratified by his praise of her team and herself.   
  
‘I do have a few suggestions, though,’ he continued, a hint of something not quite proper in his eyes.   
  
‘Yes?’ she questioned haughtily.   
  
‘Well, for starters, you’re far too aloof,’ he began. ‘You want to really connect with your team.’ He stepped closer to her, looking down into her upturned face.   
  
 _I must look a mess,_  she thought. Aloud she said, ‘How do you suggest I do that?’   
  
‘I think you need to be more approachable. See here, the way you’re standing with your arms crossed? That makes you seem inaccessible,’ he explained.   
  
She smiled and uncrossed her arms.   
  
‘That’s much better,’ the professor encouraged. ‘You need to really get to know your team. Talk to them, provide praise, find out how they think.’   
  
‘How so?’ she asked, beginning to suspect that there was more to this conversation than Quidditch.   
  
‘I’ll show you,’ he replied, grinning wolfishly. ‘Step over here, Miss Weasley.’ When she complied, he continued. ‘Casual touches are a good way to bond with the team. When you’re speaking to player, put your hand on their arm to emphasize your point. For example.’ He demonstrated by placing his hand gently on her forearm, and a tingle ran through her skin.   
  
‘What else,’ she asked a bit breathlessly. He hadn’t removed his hand and she was starting to feel a bit woozy. His eyes were burning into hers and she couldn’t tell if she was still clothed; his look said that she was completely naked. She pulled her eyes away to make sure robes were still in place. They were.   
  
‘Now, you put your arms around their neck,’ he whispered, leaning down so that their faces were nearly touching. She complied uncertainly.   
  
‘Much better,’ he said, his voice nearly a growl, before he closed the scant inch between their lips and kissed her, a brief meeting of skin. His arms wound themselves around her waist and she turned her face upwards, offering her lips again.   
  
‘Now,’ he murmured, his breath hot on her ear, ‘I have some pointers on how to improve your techniques, if you want to hear them.’ She nodded. ‘Firstly, you hold your broom too tightly. You should grasp it lightly.’   
  
Beginning to see where this lesson was headed, she stepped away from the embrace and retrieved her broom. Holding it tightly in one hand, she took the other and caressed the end of it softly, her knees a bit weak, admittedly, but determined to continue this ‘lesson’.   
  
‘Like this?’ Ginny queried, excitement rushing through her as his eyes darkened. He nodded, gulping. ‘Now what?’   
  
‘You should mount the broom gently, putting your weight onto in stages,’ he whispered, taking it from her hands.   
  
‘How can I mount it if you take it away?’ she pouted.   
  
‘I’ll demonstrate later,’ he growled, pulling her towards him and capturing her lips. This time, she was ready and opened her mouth under his, letting out a little sigh and his tongue touched hers, hesitantly at first, as if unsure of his reception, then harder and more demanding.   
  
The kiss seemed to last forever, and he broke away, a slight sheen of sweat on her face.   
  
‘Professor?’ she asked, reaching for the closure on his cloak. ‘I think I should practice holding the broom some more, don’t you?’   
  
‘Absolutely,’ he whispered, helping her remove his robes. He stood proudly before her, pale skin gleaming in the dim light of changing room. Reaching out, she grasped him firmly with one hand and ran the other softly around the tip of his erection as it bobbed in her hand. Oliver gasped, all pretence of superiority forgotten and she watched, fascinated as a small, glistening drop slipped out of him when she squeezed.   
  
‘Am I doing it right?’ she teased. His ‘Aye’ was barely audible as he reached for her, pulling her robes over her head and quickly discarding her knickers. She released her new toy and stepped back, allowing him to admire her creamy skin, full breasts and the vivid red patch of curly hair at the juncture of her legs. A smile crept across his face.   
  
‘I suppose I should demonstrate?’ he suggested, gesturing her closer. When she’d obliged him, she felt him slide a finger along her swollen cleft. She was slippery with her feminine dew and he thrust his finger into her softness with nary a warning.   
  
She gasped, a hot rush of pleasure overtaking her and her knees buckled.   
  
‘Shall we sit down, luv?’ he asked naughtily, and she nodded.   
  
He led her to then end of the bench in front of the lockers that the players used to store their robes during matches and gently pushed her onto her back, legs splayed on either side of the hard, wooden length. He knelt at the apex of her thighs and smiled encouragingly at her. Ginny trembled in anticipation.   
  
He bent his head and licked her softly throbbing center, causing her gasp. Her gasps turned to moans as he worked his tongue in persistent circles. She began to buck against his mouth and he grasped her hips, holding her down. Soft cries left her parted lips as he continued the insistent movements before she felt herself come undone and let out a loud, hoarse cry.   
  
Before her orgasm died, he sheathed himself into her wetness and thrust deeply, probing against her very core. He pulled himself out until he was just barely inside, her hot walls grabbing at him. She felt him shudder. He thrust hard and her back scraped against the bench. He pulled away again and she felt the pulsing of his hardness at the very edge of her warmth. He continued, slowly, thrusting deeply and withdrawing to the point of leaving her altogether for long minutes before his control snapped and he began shoving himself into her more quickly, roughly and without mercy.   
  
She felt the swell another orgasm rip through her body as his hot juices poured inside of her. The touch of his thumb on her most sensitive spot caused her spasm, and her walls gripped him tightly.   
  
Slowly, he eased away from her, looking at her for some sign of reprisal. He found none. Thoroughly satiated, she pulled herself off the bench and searched for her robes. When they were dressed, she glanced at him mischievously.   
  
‘Shall we have another lesson tomorrow?’ she asked sultrily.   
  
‘Of course,’ he said laughing. ‘We never quite got to the mounting lesson.’


End file.
